


my supernatural romance novel life

by billtheradish



Series: really should've known better [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, M/M, Magical Accidents, Mildly Dubious Consent, Werewolf Reveal, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billtheradish/pseuds/billtheradish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So now he was sitting on his apparently drugged boyfriends' lap, in the middle of a barbeque hosted by witches. </p>
<p>When the fuck had this become something that happened in his life?</p>
<p>-----<br/>A missing scene from <i>to bring good fortune</i>, from Stiles's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my supernatural romance novel life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jadesymb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesymb/gifts).



> So, Jadesymb had asked for a werewolf reveal story. And I got through most of it and realized that I wrote _everything except the actual reveal_. So have an outtake, from Stiles' perspective.

He was at a barbeque. With witches.

In case you didn't catch that? _Barbeque_. With _witches_.

Stiles grinned at Carmelle until his cheeks felt like they were going to break (and that was saying something). Between them, she had a bowl of water in one hand and a large salt crystal in the other.

Two minutes ago, that rock had been table salt.

"I can only do it in water," she said, shrugging as she set the water on the ground for the dogs. "It's just purification, really. But that's what I'm best at, identifying compositions and separating them."

"That's so awesome, though. It's amazing."

He'd said the same thing to the guy who could levitate small objects, and the girl who lit the bonfire with a handful of herbs, and, really, everybody he'd met so far. Stiles had no faith at all that he'd remember any of their names past the end of the day (or even that long), but he was determined to meet them all. And so far, everybody seemed more than happy to show him their specialty.

Carmelle was blushing and laughing, looking around and waving her salt crystal randomly with the apparent realization that she didn't have anything to do with it. "It's not that-- I mean, this is easy. Um. For me. You feel right here, you know," she focused on him suddenly, and Stiles had never seen that particular kind of blunt earnestness from anyone but Scott before. (1) "We could probably teach--"

" _HEADS_ ," came a shout from behind him, cracking across the clearing the Mooners had staked out for their own with too much volume to be natural.

He wasn't sure how to describe the _tone_ of that shout, but it was distinctive. He associated it with golf and the firing range.

It usually meant duck.

Before Stiles could figure out _which way_ he should duck, Carmelle jumped and stepped back with a squeak, and a familiar pair of arms wrapped around him from behind.

Arms that were _starting_ to become familiar, at least. In more than just a trippy, roofied sort of way (which, really, was still at least 60% of his exposure to them).

Then Derek shoved his nose against Stiles' neck with a happy sounding grumble (and seriously, how did that work?) and he realized that no. This was totally familiar in the trippy, roofied sort of way.

"Oh my God. Seriously?" Stiles flailed, leaning up and forward against Derek's grip. Not that that did any good. " _Seriously_?"

Natalie (whose name he remembered because she was terrifying in a Lydia-gone-goth sort of way, and he didn't dare forget her) stalked over, a grimace twisting up her perfectly painted mouth. "Uh. So...how much _has_ Derek told you about--"

If she said anything else, Stiles missed it. Because that was a tongue. That was a tongue licking up the back of his neck from his collar to his _ear_ and it _tickled_.

His knees buckled and he slammed an elbow against Derek's arm as he tried to flail away from the horrible, wet, tingly-in-all-the-wrong-ways sensation. It still didn't do any good. Derek's arms just ended up snug under his arm pits and was he _licking Stiles' hair_?

"Okay. This is officially too weird," he muttered, kicking uselessly at the grass to try and stand up on his own again. He wasn't a huge fan of feeling like a rag doll "A little help?"

"Oh wow, I'm not--" Carmelle cut off suddenly, biting her lip in a mixture of horrified fascination and amusement. "I'm not sure it's safe? Sorry..."

Natalie at least wasn't as worried about being pouted at, or whatever it was Carmelle thought Derek might do. (2) She just stepped in and grabbed one of Derek's arms, digging her heels in and hauling back on it. "C'mon, Der. Let your boyfriend stand-- Okay. Or not."

She let go just in time for Derek to haul Stiles up and flop down on the grass.

So now he was sitting on his apparently drugged boyfriends' lap, in the middle of a barbeque hosted by witches. 

When the fuck had this become something that happened in his life?

More importantly. When the fuck had Derek's fingernails gotten that pointy and dark?

"Uh..." Stiles blinked at Derek's hand, and wiggled in the death grip he was being cuddled with until he could twist around.

"Okay," Natalie said, suddenly sounding like she was getting ready to talk Stiles down off a ledge. "See, I don't know if he's told you about--"

"Ooooh my God," Stiles--well, breathed more than anything. Most likely, Natalie couldn't even hear him from wherever it was she was talking from. It sounded far away, and he didn't really care why or how she'd moved so fast. Right then, the only important thing was Derek's face.

Because _there_ were those amazingly blue eyes he remembered. Also ears that he decidedly did _not_ remember, that were pointy and long and-- And _fangs_. Fangs Derek's lips couldn't quite close all the way over. And oh yeah, the whole Buffy-verse vampire thing his forehead was doing, with the bumps and the protrusions.

And what the hell. Did his eyebrows move down to become side burns? That still didn't account for _how much_ side burn there was, but it explained the lack of eyebrows. Sort of. He couldn't even remember if that particular indignity had been visited on the vampires in Buffy. He'd have to look that up.

But claws. And fangs. And...really, kind of scary, predatory face. Right up in his business. Perfect biting range.

It was still really, _really_ hard to feel too scared, when those eerie blue eyes were-- Yeah, no other word for it. Those were totally goo-goo eyes.

Derek might be drugged out and full of dangerous pointy bits, but he was also practically cooing at Stiles.

Carmelle's worry about safety did at least suddenly make more sense.

But what.

Right. There were other people he could talk to.

Stiles twisted around again, meeting Natalie's unimpressed face with the ease of many years under Lydia's occasional disdainful glances. On the good days. "Were you listening to a word I said?"

"Nope," Stiles replied with a smile. Because what the hell, at least he was honest. "But, seriously. Am I just off my rocker here or is my boyfriend a werewolf?"

Natalie threw her hands up and walked away muttering to herself. Carmelle at least stayed with him, nodding faintly and failing at biting back her smile. "Uh. Yeah. Yeah he is."

"Okay. Cool. Good to know I'm not hallucinating," Stiles nodded, trying to wrestle his brain around just _one_ aspect of this whole ridiculous situation. Just one. Not fifteen, or whatever. "So what, exactly, is going on?"

"We don't know," Carmelle grimaced. "We've been trying to figure it out since it happened last time."

Stiles gave her an unimpressed look, but just got a shrug in response. "Uh. Want me to get you a burger or something?"

"Yeah, sure," he sighed, slumping back against Derek and yelping in an entirely manly way when Derek took that as his prompt to lie down. "A meat one, though. I definitely deserve a meaty burger."

Carmelle... _probably_ left to get him some food. He wasn't sure, because she wasn't in the sky he was looking at, now. M-something was, though. The girl Derek had latched onto as soon as he'd introduced Stiles to enough people to realize Stiles was weirdly in his element at a party full of the magically inclined.

"Sucks to be you," she commented. "You ready to freak out yet?"

"I'm getting there," he answered honestly. "But it's kind of hard to build up enough steam for a proper freak out while being cuddled with this much dedication."

"I feel you," M-something nodded. "Just yell if you need help or someeone to get your freak on at."

Then she abandoned him to his cuddle-wolf. Because nobody here was a decent hu-- Person. Nobody was a decent person. Except Carmelle, who was bringing him food.

It turned out to be a veggie burger, when it arrived, so Stiles took her off the decent person list. There wasn't even some form of potato to go with it.

It probably said something about him, that he was less upset about his boyfriend being a werewolf than he was about the content of the food intended to comfort him, but whatever. As a coping mechanism, it was working.

Stiles broke off a piece of his traitorous burger-substitute and held it back for Derek, thinking that maybe he could be distracted with food or something. But no. His life couldn't be that easy. Instead, he got to live with Derek licking the bite out of his fingers, then sucking them into his mouth like that's what he was after to begin with, moaning and growling in a way that was-- Okay, it was _seriously_ working for Stiles' libido, apparently.

"Fuck. Really?" He just knew he was bright red by the time he got his fingers back. "Bad enough we're cuddling in the grass, but now I have to be hard too? I can _not_ believe you, dude."

Derek'd drugged out brain took that as his cue to start muttering words into his neck. Really, uh, _graphic_ words. Because apparently, Stiles' life was not complete without a downright pornographic description of his lips, his fingers, his _moles_ being lovingly growled into his skin.

He was going to figure out whatever it was that Derek was on then _burn all of it_. So this would _never happen again_.  (3)

 

\-----

(1) Though to be fair, Carmelle was kind of alarmingly like a female Scott. Right down to the uneven jawline.

(2) Because seriously. Had she met Derek? He might look grumpy but hello. _Teddybear_.

(3) It really wasn't fair, he thought, that it was burning the damn twigs that caused the problem to begin with. It made his original plans for retribution kind of...awkward.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's anything I should have tagged for and didn't, **please** let me know!


End file.
